


Isosceles

by the_last_dillards



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Polyamory, Pre-relationship garashir but its endgame, Star Trek: Just in Time Fest, late season 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:28:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29118249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_last_dillards/pseuds/the_last_dillards
Summary: Julian lies awake at night, filling Keiko’s empty space in the O’Briens’ marriage bed as he contemplates his future.
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak, Julian Bashir/Miles O'Brien, slight Julian Bashir/Keiko O'Brien/Miles O'Brien
Comments: 17
Kudos: 55
Collections: Star Trek: Just in Time Fest





	Isosceles

**Author's Note:**

> Set in late season 7, before Julian knows that the O’Briens are planning to move. As always, assume Keiko is fully in the know about Julian and Miles' thing.
> 
> Written for the Just In Time fest.

Julian counted as the seconds on his internal clock ticked by, turning into minutes and slowly morphing to hours.

To anyone who didn’t know better, the scene would look tranquil. Domestic. A happy couple wrapped up in each other’s arms, and a cat to complete the scene sitting at the end of the bed.

The truth was far more morose. Two lonely men, filling the hole in each other’s life.

Julian loved Miles. He did. And he was perfectly happy to warm the empty space in his bed when Keiko was far away, or to fill what little free time the Chief had with fun and distractions, but all he could feel right now was dread. Impending doom.

Somewhere out there, dead or alive, was Garak. 

Julian didn’t know which. He desperately hoped it was the latter. Garak was a wily and resourceful bastard, he tried to tell himself. But the logic and odds and calculations that his damned augment brain spat out at regular intervals told him it was most likely the former. Garak and Kira had missed their check-in deadline, after all, and the Dominion had declared Damar and his resistance dead. 

Still, Julian liked to try keeping an optimistic outlook, even if it was just a facade.

That didn’t stop the worry from chewing away at him.

He didn’t want to lose another friend. Jadzia had been hard enough, and she was hardly the only person he’d lost in the war. Classmates, former colleagues, acquaintances. Names ticked off on a list.

Could he handle another? Especially one who was so vital to his life? That had taken up so many of his waking hours with the literature they argued and the lunches they shared?

He would have to. There was a war on. There were people who needed him.

But what came after? When this was all over, assuming they survived and came out victorious—this line of thought would hardly matter in the event that they didn’t—what would he do with himself?

Jadzia was dead, and Ezri was nice but they had hardly had the time to build up the same rapport that he and Jadzia had once shared. And besides, she’d been talking of returning to Trill once the war was over for more training to help her with the symbiont.

At least he’d have Miles, Julian supposed, even if things changed between them once Keiko and the kids were back. The Chief would deny it, argue it, if Julian ever dared to bring it up, but in his heart of hearts, he knew that what they shared right now wouldn’t last in the face of Miles’ actual marriage.

Sure, they might still play their darts and war games, maybe even mess around in a holosuite every now and then, but the core of it wouldn’t hold out. Miles would hardly need Julian the way he did now. The same need that had the Chief awkwardly showing up at his quarters at 2300 hours and asking him to come over and stay the night because Miles needed someone to hold in his arms. 

Maybe when Yoshi was older and Keiko started taking her long research expeditions to Bajor again, they’d find their way back to this. But that would be years away, if it happened at all. 

Julian did his best not to be bitter towards Keiko for being the one Miles always returned to. It wasn’t fair to her; she was his wife. Ultimately, Miles had known her years longer, made that promise, and started a family together.

If he should resent anyone in this situation, it was Miles for putting him in it. Sure, Julian might’ve always harbored a crush on him, but he would’ve been happy if all they ever were was ordinary, platonic friends. Miles didn’t need to go ahead and promote him to spouse whenever Keiko was away, only to drop him back to a limbo of something akin to friends with benefits when she was home.

When it was just the two of them, everything was idyllic. His place in Miles’ life was secured. He helped him around the house. They ate their meals together. They stayed the night. They planned their lives around each other.

That changed whenever Keiko came back. The sudden upheaval was always jarring. 

Julian hated the distance her presence forced between them. He had more time than he knew what to do with and couldn’t just barge into Miles’ quarters anymore whenever he wanted attention or affection.

If Miles was capable of juggling both a wife and a lover at the same time, of treating Julian as his boyfriend, well and truly, then things would be different. He wouldn’t mind that. But as it was, it seemed beyond the limited scope of both Miles’ time and his interpersonal skills.

He got the feeling that Keiko knew this. Understood and sympathized with the awkward situation he was in.

The most immediately obvious solution to this all was to build a bridge between Keiko and himself. To stabilize an awkward angle by turning it into a triangle, taking some of the weight of having a relationship off of Miles’ shoulders by helping to fulfill each other’s emotional and physical needs where their lover couldn’t.

They had tried it for a few months—throupled dates, outings to let Keiko and himself get to know each other better, and a few intimate encounters as a group. Those months had been fun. But fun was all it had been.

Keiko was a wonderful woman, and Julian enjoyed her company. But he very simply didn’t have any strong feelings for her that way, and she didn’t seem to have any for him in return. They were just friends, no passion or interest between them for more. 

Those attempts to develop the sturdy support of a triangle always seemed to devolve back into an angle with Miles at the center. It was probably very enjoyable for him, always being the center of attention. But it wasn’t sustainable when Miles was at best only capable of giving half his attention to each in return.

Eventually, they had stopped trying to become something they weren’t, and Julian was left back at square one. 

Maybe it was something that could still be talked out like adults. 

The O’Brien household had an extra room available that he could move into. He could take on his share of chores, be readily available as a babysitter for Molly and Yoshi. 

But Julian couldn’t help but to feel that it wouldn’t end well. That it would press the issue on Miles and force him to choose or put a strain on his marriage.

Julian didn’t want to step on Keiko’s toes or make it seem like he was trying to uproot her. And frankly, he didn’t want to feel like Miles’ mistress either. It would be strange for him if they lived together and every night Miles went to sleep in a bed Julian wasn’t allowed in but he could crawl in with Julian whenever he wanted.

This could only end one way; Miles would choose Keiko once and for all. As it should be. 

Julian swallowed down his hurt. He’d known from the start what he was signing up for when he’d let himself get involved with a married man. That didn’t dull the sting.

He’d still have their friendship to look forward to, and that wasn’t something to take lightly. With the war the way it was, who knew how much longer he’d have any one of his friends or even himself? 

Still, sometimes he just longed to take precedence in someone’s life.

Maybe he wasn’t being fair. He knew he could be arrogant and annoying at the best of times. Worked odd and irregular hours that made it difficult to schedule time with loved ones. He could hardly expect someone to put up with him forever.

Especially when he’d already had a chance and missed it by letting time pass him by but never making a move.

Despite the rumors and betting pools at Quark’s, he and Garak had never been lovers. Not even a single chaste kiss or fingers interlaced. They’d just argued and flirted for years on end. That had been enough to fool most people around them. 

Could Garak have ever been that for him? If Julian had put aside his reservations—and of that there had been many; if he had made a leap of faith and followed his heart instead of any logical, rational thinking; if he had asked or made a concrete gesture, would Garak have learned to love him, to put him first?

The answer was more complicated than a single yes or no, he knew. It always was. Every worthwhile relationship had its conditions and limits.

Even if Garak could’ve come to love him and the choice didn't turn out to be a mistake, there would always be Cardassia between them. If forced to choose, that’s whose arms Garak would run to. 

Julian didn’t begrudge him for it. 

To take out Garak’s love for Cardassia would be to leave a gaping hole in his chest. A cold maw that nothing, not even Julian as hard as he might try, could fill. It was vital to Garak’s existence, his essence.

A sudden thought came to him, and Julian held in a chuckle so as not to disturb Miles. 

If he had managed to get together with Garak instead of Miles, then he’d be very much trapped in the same situation, wouldn’t he?

Garak was married to Cardassia at heart, and Julian would simply be his lover doing his best to fill that hole while they were apart. And it seemed in the end, Garak too would leave him to be with his true love.

After all, if Garak was still out there and if the Dominion was successfully ousted, then he had been promised his repatriation by Damar and the Cardassian Liberation Front. Julian knew his friend well enough that for him, it was free Cardassia or die trying. 

Garak wouldn’t be coming back. Or at least, not permanently.

Perhaps it said something about him that his taste in men seemed to lean heavily towards the older, solidly built, emotionally unavailable, and already firmly taken side of things. (It wouldn’t do to think too hard on the implications of that.)

Instead, he returned to that first thought, turning it over in his head a few times as he ruminated further on this fictional life where he had made a move on Garak before it was too late. 

Maybe in the real world, things hadn’t worked out between Keiko and himself, but Cardassia was a very different entity, wasn’t she? And the idea still held true; the most obvious solution to fixing an awkward angle was to give it the stability and support of three sides.

Julian didn’t know Cardassia well. Sure, he had read a million words about her and heard a hundred love letters straight from Garak’s lips, but he’d never felt her sun, touched her soils, walked her deserts or streets. Could he learn to love Cardassia as Garak did? Or the ever more delicate, ever more nebulous question; could Cardassia learn to love him?

Could they have built that comfortable marriage of three?

To live a life where he could come home after a long day and be wrapped in Garak's welcoming arms. To be asked about his work before a fond bicker over a warm meal. To make that life and that home as one, living on Cardassia and like Garak, serving her the best he could. To love them both with all his heart and feel that love returned.

If there was any chance of that future becoming reality, then he’d certainly be willing to try.

Julian was brought out of his vivid imaginings to the quiet here and now—and the uncertainty that poisoned it—by the arm around his waist tightening.

Miles kissed the back of his neck and mumbled into his ear, “Julian, I can hear you thinking.”

“Sorry, I’ll try to do it quieter,” he murmured back, a smile creeping onto his face.

Miles grunted in response. 

Julian supposed he probably should be trying to get to sleep sooner than later. Tomorrow would be another long day of keeping the station healthy and healing battle wounds. He needed all the rest he could get.

But knowing he needed rest was one thing and actually achieving it was another. It was a hard thing to do when you had a brain that seemed incapable of shutting off. Still, he had to try. 

He started with mindfulness techniques, letting himself be aware of his body and the environment around him. To take note and fill his head with minutiae in place of algorithms.

Most immediately, he was comfortable. The blankets wrapped around them were plush and soft, easy on Julian’s sometimes over sensitive skin. Behind him, there was the gentle pressure of Miles’ body, arm slung over his middle, and further down, Chester cozied up unbudgingly at their feet. Julian’s foot twitched in his stillness.

The sound of Miles’ breathing was even, and Julian tried to match his own to it as Chester snored lightly from where he was curled. The station seemed to imitate him, humming and thrumming in low tones.

In his mouth, Julian could taste the faintest hint of mint, feel the air seemingly cool as it brushed over his tongue. His nose was filled with a thick musk—Miles was prone to sweating even in the mildest of conditions. Julian didn’t mind it. Had come to enjoy kissing salt from his skin.

He put the inevitable trail such thoughts would lead him down to the side, and instead focused on deciphering patterns out of the twisting abstractions of phosphenes behind his closed eyes. If they were open, he knew, he would see the O’Briens’ bedroom faintly lit by stars drifting past the window.

Julian didn’t want to admit it but as much as he was using the sensory information to lull himself into a trance, he was also internalizing the moment, documenting every detail he could to savor it as he lived it and then as a keepsake for later use; when he could pull the memory out from his photographic recollection and relive it as needed. Who knew how many quiet nights like this he had left?

“You’re still doing it.”

Julian grinned, eyes still closed, and took a trick from Garak’s book. “Keiko’s going to kill you when she finds out you let the cat on the bed.”

“Mm, that’s why we change out the sheets and don’t tell her.”

“She’s right, you know. Chester’s hair gets everywhere. Every time I come over, I have to replicate a lint roller to pull it off everything I own.”

It was true. One time, Miles had asked him to stop over and feed Chester while he was working on some emergency repairs, and Julian had sat down for less than two minutes to read a new message on his padd asking him to come to Ops before he headed out. He'd later been reprimanded by Sisko for arriving to a meeting with the Romulans with his backside covered in fur.

“Worth it though to have a cat on your feet,” Miles answered.

“For you maybe. There’s a reason I don’t have any animals.”

“You can’t even keep a plant alive, Julian. But I’ll turn you to my thinking yet. Just you wait.”

Julian couldn’t help but to stiffen slightly, the way Miles talked as if they had a future together, ruining whatever relaxation he’d managed to find. 

Evidently it was noticed, because Miles let out a long sigh, broad chest expanding and contracting. “Alright. What’s going on inside that overpowered noggin of yours?”

“Nothing. It’s late Miles. Even superhumans need sleep.”

“Obviously, it’s not nothing. C’mon, you’re just going to be up otherwise, and then it’s going to keep _me_ up.”

When there was no immediate answer forthcoming, Miles leaned away and rolled Julian onto his back so he could look him in the eye. 

“It’s Section 31, isn’t it? That mess with Sloan and the cure. Look, I don’t like it either, some sort of secret organization manipulating things from behind a smokescreen. It’s the sort of thing you might expect from—” he cut himself off. “Well, it’s not the Federation way is what I mean. But agonizing over it at two in the morning won’t force them to show their faces any sooner. We got what we needed, Odo is better, and we can figure out what else to do over breakfast.”

Julian let a small smile grace his face. “Miles, I know. It’s not that.”

“Oh.” He seemed at a loss. “Well, you might as well let whatever it is out. The sooner you’ve cleared your head, the sooner I can go back to getting some shut eye.” 

Miles did look rather exhausted, didn’t he? Everyone was these days. A goodnight’s rest was a luxury worth more than a hundred bars of latinum.

Julian caved, chewing his bottom lip as he debated how much he could say without starting a fight. “It’s Garak and Kira. It’s been too long now since they last checked in, and I’m just…not sure how to handle losing two more friends if they never come back.”

“They’ll come back.”

“You don’t know that.”

“And you don’t know that they won’t either. If anyone could survive impossible odds, it’s those two. Kira grew up doing this sort of stuff, and Garak, well…Garak’s like a damned vole infestation. Impossible to get rid of.” 

Julian chuckled weakly at that, and Miles grinned back, proud at having gotten some reaction.

He continued, “You’ve got to believe in them. Trust in their ability to come through, and don’t let yourself think otherwise.”

“You’re a wise man, Miles.”

“Of course I am. You should listen to me more. There’s a great deal I could teach a fresh greenhorn like you.”

“Oh? And what lessons do you have to teach me, Chief?” Julian couldn’t help but to tease, using his most outrageously lascivious voice and wiggling his eyebrows for effect.

Miles gave him a light smack on the thigh for it.

“None of that, now. Lesson number one, when it’s after 2500 hours and before 0600, you ought to be asleep.”

Julian was manhandled back into what was more of a reverse bear hug than any kind of spooning. He struggled against it out of principle, and the resulting effect of Miles’ arms wrapping around him just that much tighter created a heavenly sort of pressure around him. Helped tether him like a weighted blanket when so often these days, he felt barely tangible.

“Thank you, Miles,” he said when they’d settled down, heart slowing.

“For what?”

He wasn’t completely sure himself if he was being honest.

“For giving me a chance, I suppose,” he settled on. “I like what we have.”

“Well, I should’ve given you one a lot earlier. And…I’m sorry I didn’t. I like what we have too.”

Between them, as emotionally challenged as Miles could be at times, it was just as good as a love confession.

“Now for Pete’s sake, turn off your head and get to sleep.”

Julian didn’t. 

Instead, he remained awake throughout the night, looking out to the distant stars as they rotated by and trying to find one in particular.

**Author's Note:**

> As much as I enjoy the O'Brien polycule, I feel like realistically Miles couldn't handle two relationships at once, or at least nothing more than a friends with benefits thing. Every person you add into a relationship doubles the communication needed, and Miles is not good at that lol.
> 
> But hey, if you're looking for a story that fits that Julian-Garak-Cardassia threeway marriage model, might I suggest reading [Happy Birs'sday, Doctor Bashir](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20926103/chapters/49748834) by AlphaCygni? My mind kept returning to it as I wrote this.
> 
> Special thanks to EctoGeo for betaing and helping to detwist this thing!
> 
> Kudos and comments are love.


End file.
